Awkward
by StephanieIrvine
Summary: He just wanted to feel again. For that matter so did she. They came across the other by accident, was it any wonder that this happened?


**Disclaimer - I don't own anyone. It makes me all sad inside that I don't, but when can you ever get anything you want in life?**

**A/N - Just a little one shot that came about from a conversation I was having, this is the result, so enjoy. Go read.**

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**Awkward.**

Walking down a backstage corridor somewhere was the same as walking down any backstage corridor, at least for Chris it was. Wrestling events, autograph signings, Fozzy concerts, you name it, they always looked the same and always lead to the lonesome door at the end of the hall. Beyond that door lay the darkness of the night, which shielded innocence and hid sins. Chris had seen it all, and experienced a few himself. Tonight was no different, the only difference was that he was in a different corridor in some state he hadn't been in the day before.

It was all the same, it never changed and it never surprised him.

Nothing surprised him anymore.

It was just a monotonous continuation of dull incident after dull incident.

_What happened to my life? _He pondered to himself silently. When had it got so boring? When had his life become a routine...no it wasn't a routine, he didn't repeat the same task in order of event everyday and yet it almost seemed like he did. It felt that way anyway. He was in a rut and he missed the fire that had burned so intently inside him years previous to this lacklustre life he had now.

He craved excitement, needed it so he could feel alive again. He wanted desperately to feel the blood surge through his veins as he prepared for the forthcoming storm. Was it considered sad that he missed a proverbial disaster, just so he could feel that little bit like he used to? He didn't want to call it a ray of hope, but when he looked at it reasonably that's what it was. He needed the hope and purpose put back into his life.

He dreaded to think what would happen to him if that didn't come to pass.

Would he be a shell of a man? Would he shy away and become someone he so vigorously detested? Would he settle for less than he wanted, hell, deserved?

His life right now seemed like nothing.

He wanted more than nothing.

Colliding full force with someone was certainly more than nothing and he was almost happy as he flew back through the air, that in this moment at least, he wasn't alone anymore. He'd take what was to come with a smile and a miniscule feeling of satisfaction, he had after all caused this, thus making his life less than the dreaded debacle that it had slowly been falling into.

Impacting with the floor was an almost welcomed feeling, and as he thought about it now he didn't think he had felt anything in such a long time, and that cold, concert floor was something he sought after. Anything felt better than being numb didn't it? Even if it was only pain. He lay there a second, recollecting his thoughts, he should probably get up and help whomever he collided with up, but he relished in the scarce second of contact with another human being. He laughed at that thought, _Human being? _Had it really been that long since he had been remotely close to anyone that it had resulted in actual contact? What had his life become, God, he was almost pathetic. Why not just dub him the King of Pathetic-ness?

Groaning he sat up and saw the papers fly around him, making him feel like he was in some sort of avalanche that was covering him whole. Except this time, the feeling didn't leave him gasping for breath. Shooting a hand out, closely followed by his other he started gathering the papers that covered the floor.

Chuckling slightly, he picked up the last one before turning to the owner of said papers. "I'm real sorry, I think I was off in my own litt-" As he turned and came face-to-face with the owner of the body he had come in contact with, he almost gasped aloud in surprise. He had not been expecting to see her at all.

He couldn't complain though, she sure was a sight for sore eyes.

But too him Stephanie McMahon always was and always would be.

Stephanie herself had been minding her own business…okay she had been too engrossed in her work to notice anything around her, and falling to the ground because she hadn't been paying attention was no surprise. Her work simplified her life, and she had incorporated it into her routine: wake up, eat, go to work, come home, work some more, sleep and repeat when new day arrives. It sure was fun being a McMahon whose life had notably been consumed with her ever increasing work load. When she weighed out the consequences she found that she'd rather have a full work load than sit about and muse about how desolate her personal life had become. It had slowly started to come apart at the seams, before she had even noticed that it had started to unravel, and before long it had been to late, she couldn't turn back time and change that one moment in time that could have made her path ever more different.

Everything seemed so fruitless and almost pitiful, but as they say, such is life and what you make of it and she had certainly not made the most of hers. She missed the passion that used to burn inside her, so much so because it made her feel more that alive, if you could get more than alive. Was it wrong for her to want her life to be more fulfilling? If so strike her down where she stood.

Sighing to herself as she lifted herself to her feet, she began picking up her documents in annoyance. Annoyed at herself for not paying attention to what was in front of her and annoyance at the other person she had yet to look at for not realising that she was walking. But, she questioned herself, had she saw whomever it was that she collided with coming, would she have stepped out of the way or let herself fall just for the mere factor that she craved human interaction.

When had she let life get this depressing?

"Next time," she snapped, not at who was across from her but, more to herself at the sheer loser status she had become so accustomed to. _Life couldn't get much better, _she thought dryly to herself, there wasn't after all any lower she could fall, _kill me now and have it over with, please? _"Watch where the hell you're go-" she faltered taking in who was actually across from her.

Wow, he was the last person she had expected to see.

Ever again.

"Stephanie." Chris stated dumbly. She of course knew her name and didn't need it to be stated for her. Maybe Chris needed to clarify to himself that she was actually a foot or two away from him and that he was in fact not imagining this.

"Weren't you fired?" Stephanie asked dumbly. Which was a stupid question really, because she knew the whole storyline, watched it intently from the minute John Cena had appeared on Raw, to when Chris attacked him on the Highlight Reel, to the challenge of battle of the bands and then finally the end; the 'Loser gets Fired Match.' She still resented John for his part in that match, he had scored the final pin for the 1-2-3 and Chris was gone and if she was honest, Raw was a little more lifeless than it had been the following Monday after Chris's departure. It was almost if the color had drained slowly away, leaving everything in black and white surroundings.

"I," he paused for a second to collect his thoughts. He hadn't expected this, not tonight, hell, he hadn't expected this anytime in the near future. "Left."

"Oh." Stephanie spoke out and her voice sounded out throughout the deserted corridor they both stood in. The following silence was awkward and uncomfortable. Stephanie wanted to say something, _'It's good to see you,' _or _'You look good' _but her brain just didn't compute so she added to the silence between them.

Chris for his part was trying to think of something remotely intelligent to say, but instead he got random. "Your clothes?" _What a marvellous thing to say, _Chris berated himself, _not it's good to see you or you look good, but your clothes? Good show man! _That being said the last time he had seen her was...four years ago. Had it been that long? He hadn't spoken to her in four whole years. That was greatly unjust, he should have picked up the phone and called her, he knew her number, off by heart if he was honest with himself. But who was he kidding when it came to Stephanie McMahon he was anything but honest with himself. Even after four years, it was still the same.

"My clothes?" she repeated. Looking down at her attire she took in her ripped jeans and plain black t-shirt, what was wrong with her clothes? It wasn't like she never wore them everyday, because she did, they were just more comfortable to work in than getting up an hour earlier to put on a business suit and spend half an hour putting on unneeded amounts of make-up. She hadn't worn a business suit since her days as General Manager of Smackdo-...oh, had it been that long since they had even seen each other? Thinking back she counted the years. They hadn't had a conversation in four years.

Four years.

Where had the time went?

"You look," Chris began, his eyes trailing up and down her body. "Different." He sounded out. Yes, she certainly looked different but, there was no denying the fact that she looked good. He felt something lurch in his stomach and he had to pause and give thought to what that feeling was, but he hadn't felt anything in so long that he couldn't recognise it, not right now anyway.

"This is normal." Stephanie informed him, like she was some robotic machine giving out an automated response. She really hated to act this way in front of anybody, but he had surprised her and the feelings he stirred within her when his eyes trailed over her body were...well she wasn't sure, they had been dormant for so long.

"Oh." He repeated her earlier statement. When had they both been reduced to clipped answers? What happened to the Chris Jericho and Stephanie McMahon of yesteryear? Couldn't they slip back into those roles for the duration of the time they had left with each other? Wouldn't insults be better that this charade of a conversation?

"Your, uh, your," she stuttered out, one hand pointing to his head. "Hair. It's, uh short." _What a lovely thing to point out Stephanie, _she slated herself loathingly, _like he doesn't know that his own hair is short!_ Had their conversations really been reduced to this when so long ago they had been like fire and ice bouncing off of each other? What had become of them?

"Yeah," Chris whispered, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, completely uncomfortable with the situation. "Got it cut."

"That's nice." Stephanie commented politely, folding her arms over her chest, completely thrown by the circumstances she found herself in with Chris.

"Here." Chris suddenly spoke out thrusting the papers he held in his hands towards Stephanie intent of giving her back what he had caused to fall.

"Uh, thanks." Stephanie replied, reaching out and taking the papers from him. The instant she grasped the papers in her hand her fingers brushed Chris's and she was sure more so than anything she had been sure of in the past few months, that she was about to explode from…something. It was definitely something because shivers that strong didn't usually run through a person and then have them end up feeling nothing. Chris was, he was more than nothing. To her anyway, he always had been.

Chris had had brushes of hands with girls before, but he could honestly say that none had had the effect that Stephanie's had. A mere brush of her fingertips over the back of his hand had his head swimming, Stephanie was no ordinary girl though, and he knew that, he had always known that. "Four years." He whispered out and Stephanie knew exactly what he meant and he knew that she did, he could see it in her eyes.

"Four whole years." Stephanie whispered as well, she hardly trusted her voice at this instant. It had been such a long time to be apart.

"It meant something didn't it?" Chris spoke quietly, his voice sounding lost. "That one night, it meant something between us, right?" he wondered helplessly, his eyes searching Stephanie's for some kind of answer. It had meant something to him, and over time that something had grew until he couldn't breathe...until he found himself right here.

"Of course it meant something." Stephanie whispered again. "It didn't just happen, and I forgot about it." And she hadn't, it consumed her mind and left behind an empty, hollow shell. She didn't let herself feel because of that night, she didn't dare let herself fall completely like she had let herself fall with Chris, she didn't think she could make it through and live to tell the tale. It was all so hard and seeing him this close to her, and yet having him so far away was only making it harder on her.

She didn't blame Chris for the aftermath and destruction of that night. Outside forces and events caused them to not become something more, it really was as simple as that. In those seconds between the end of an hour and the beginning of a new one she let herself remember, let herself dream of what could have been. But it was worthless in the end, because wishing and imagining didn't change a thing, she was still here four years later without much of a life and a heavy heart.

She never really believed that she'd get her hearts desire, she just wasn't that lucky.

It wasn't about to change now.

"It meant something to me too." Chris let her know, his voice low. Would it be wrong to let her know that in that moment when they were together that it had meant everything to him? It had been building between them for months and then when she had been thrown from the company when he lost the belts, he thought it was over. He should have known that between them, it was never over. He had been downright shocked when Stephanie had been announced the General Manager of Smackdown, and then there she was in all of her McMahon glory, business suit and plunging neckline to boot, owning the stage like a pro.

Who would have thought that one incident where he went for a hug and she countered with a handshake would lead them to here? He had been incensed that she had dodged him and he had gone back and an argument had escalated between them and the next thing he knew they were kissing each other with unabashed gusto. They had literally exploded when they fused together and in that one night it had started something unstoppable and everlasting between them.

The morning after was something else though, no matter how hard he tried to get her on her own, to explain that, yes, this was what he wanted, unforeseeable complications came into play and added to the misery...yeah, misery his life had been ever since. Before he knew it, he had been transferred to Raw and she was gone. Four years worth of distance was a lot of ground to cover, and he doubted that she'd listen even if he tired to sort this mess of a life he had, out. "No matter how I tried to forget," he paused and chuckled mirthlessly. "That's a lie, I didn't for a second try to forget."

"You didn't forget that night?" Stephanie wondered, and watching him shake his head she got her answer. Maybe fate lead them on this path, that each footstep they took away from each other was just on another, longer path that they had to travelled but that ultimately led them back to each other in the end. "I didn't try to either." She let him know.

Her omission made his head snap up from the floor he had been feigning interest in to fully take her and her reply in. She hadn't forgotten him? Had they wasted four years away from each other? A whole forty-eight months, or one thousand, four hundred and sixty-one days apart? He wasn't counting the days, he really wasn't he just had a higher aptitude for math, for example not only had they spent so many days apart, but they had spent thirty-five thousand and sixty-four hours away from each other as well. Calculating the minutes and seconds were beyond him, but he already knew that the first day after their night together was long enough apart, he shouldn't have waited so long, it was madness really.

This was what he was missing, Stephanie was the forthcoming storm, only this time he hoped there wasn't any destruction, and there would only be the reverse. Rebuilding. Could they do this? He was getting ahead of himself, he knew that he was, but he tended to look into the future when Stephanie was concerned, because having a future meant he had a life and having a life meant you were alive and he hadn't felt alive in such a long time.

He could see it within his grasp all he had to do was reach out and take it.

So he did.

Taking Stephanie's hand in his own he held it tight, afraid if he let it go this time, there would be no chance in getting her back. He couldn't help but wonder what was going through Stephanie's head in that moment though, he'd give almost anything to be a mind reader right then, but he almost had what he wanted so he'd happily take what he was given.

"So much time wasted." Chris whispered.

Stephanie's mind had been reduced to an incredibly slow pace, she had heard what Chris had just said but no matter how much she agreed with him, her mouth wouldn't open and speak the words. She hadn't experience this is such a long time and now here she was in ripped jeans and an old t-shirt finally feeling that passion she had been missing for so long. It felt good to feel like Stephanie McMahon again, the old Stephanie McMahon of years gone by, but with a few added lessons learned.

Chris was all that she had needed, and in some subconscious level deep, deep down buried below all the memories and feelings she knew that. Why she had waited four year to enlighten herself with that piece of information escaped her, but in the here and now of things it didn't matter, they had found their way to each other, even if it had been unexpected, but after all those were the best ways to feel alive again.

And she did feel alive again, Chris had this effect on her where he was metres away from her and he could make her feel so at ease in a short amount of time. It had happened in the past and it was happening now. This feeling beat the tired, lethargic way that she had felt earlier this evening. She realized now that work wasn't life, life was living.

And Chris made her feel alive, so he was a good thing.

But then, she knew that year's ago.

Looking up at him she noted that he opened his mouth to speak and then just as promptly closed it again. Feeling laughter bubble inside her, a feeling she hadn't felt in such a long time, but she kept it at bay and gave Chris her full attention. He noticed and squeezed her hand one last time before letting it go.

"Will you have dinner," he began hesitantly. "W-with me?" he rushed out, thankful to be finished asking her that. Nervousness, that was new but it sure did feel good.

"At eleven o'clock at night?" Stephanie wondered with a smirk. It had been a long time since she had felt the need to use it. She was slowly starting to feel like herself again.

"What can I say Princess," Chris paused, his patent lazy smile across his face. "Nothing's ever going to be normal when it's you and I."

"Is that a promise?"

"It's a guaranteed promise." Chris informed her reaching an arm across her shoulders. He smiled to himself as he felt Stephanie reach a hand up and slip it into his own, intertwining their fingers together.

As they walked down the corridor in some backstage arena that looked like any other, the door at the end of the hall didn't look so lonesome anymore and maybe the other side wouldn't be covered in nothing but darkness.

Chris and Stephanie were banking on that.

Together.

**The End. **

So what did you think? Honest opinion, leave it in the review box, all you have to do is hit submit review and go. Easy as 1-2-3.


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